After getting his things packed and ready to move, Vell had done a mental checklist of everything he might possibly need to do before he left. He had all his books, all his notes, had stashed his guns in the looper lair for next year -he had finished just about every task he could think. To the best of his ability, at least. Heâd sent a message to wrap up one more loose end about an hour ago, and was still waiting on an answer.
His phone buzzed, and Vell snatched it out of his pocket to read Joanâs response.
redeyes02:
Yeah
Iâd like to talk
vharlan03:
okay great!
okay
do you want to like
swing by the dining hall
or something
redeyes02:
im going to be packing kind of until the last minute
cant really leave my room
if you want to come by thats okay
but I get it if you donât
Even though Vell had been the one to propose one last chat between him and Joan, he wasnât entirely confident about going through with it. He felt he had to, though. Unresolved conflicts tended to linger in the minds of even the most stable people, and Joan was far from stable on a good day. Hopefully a polite goodbye and a sense of closure could prevent any further conflicts between the two of them. Or at least if (when) more conflict arose, Vell could confidently say it wasnât his fault.
Vell put his phone aside for a moment. The last time heâd been in Joanâs room, he had died. Violently. At Joanâs hands. That was enough to make even Vell hesitate. But most of her unnatural scientific implements were probably boxed up by now. Heâd stay by the door just in case.
After a few deep breaths, Vell had psyched himself up to talk to his ex. Who had killed him. Probably accidentally, but still. The circumstances of her abducting and experimenting on him definitely werenât accidental. Vell realized thinking about these things had unpsyched himself and he had to start all over.
After repeating the cycle of pysch and unpsych a few times, Vell forced himself to at least step out of his dorm. The halls were packed with students carting belongings out of their dorms, and he had to sidestep several boxes and pieces of furniture on his short journey down the hall. In spite of the hustle and bustle, Joanâs dorm still felt isolated and quiet. Out of curiosity, Vell tried putting in the door code, and found it still worked. Joan hadnât changed it, after all these months. He opened the door a crack, just enough to let his voice carry through.
âJoan?â
âOop!â
The short, surprised cry followed the sound of something hitting the floor. Vell opened the door the rest of the way just to make sure Joan hadnât hurt herself. She was scrambling to pick up a few pieces of equipment sheâd dropped.
âSorry,â Vell said.
âItâs fine, nothing fragile,â Joan said, as she picked up a carving tool. âYou just, well, surprised me a bit.â
âSorry.â
âItâs fine. You just never responded,â Joan said. She packed a few of her things into a box. âI figured you got cold feet.â
âNah. I just got in my own head a bit.â
âThat does sound like you,â Joan said. She reached to the side and grabbed one more thing to put away. Vellâs heart began to pound in his chest as he saw Joan lift the arcanometric analyzer -the tool that had caused Vellâs explosive death so many months ago- and hold it in her hands for a second. This time, though, Joan just put in a box and sealed it away, oblivious to the damage the tool had done in another timeline.
âSo,â Joan began again. âDid you just want to say goodbye, orâ¦?â
âSort of, yeah,â Vell said. âAfter everything that happened this year, uh, it feels weird to not at least say goodbye.â
âI guess,â Joan said. She folded the lid of a box closed and stood up, devoting her full attention to Vell. âIf youâre not in a hurry, I wouldnât mind saying a little more than goodbye.â
Vell tried to restrain himself from moving his hand closer to the doorknob. He had to remind himself that this version of Joan had no idea what she had done, or why she had done it. When she approached, she was doing so without any malice -at least that Vell knew of. She stopped when she was face to face with Vell, pretending not to notice the nervousness creeping into his eyes.
âI wanted to thank you, Vell,â she said quietly. âFor being a good example. I think...Iâm a better person for having known you.â
Her quiet words softened the edge of Vellâs anxiety, and he relaxed.
âAnd I wanted to apologize,â Joan continued.
âYou donât need to apologize for anything that happened,â Vell said.
âIâm not apologizing for that,â Joan said. Her red eyes focused on him again. âIâm apologizing for this.â
Vell sighed.
âAre you fucking kidding m-â
Then everything went black. But not thanks to Joan. Vell had been so fixated on the potential threat in front of him, he had failed to notice the very real threat appearing behind him. Principal Goodwell brushed the last few smoldering embers of the knockout spell off his fingertips and looked down at Vell.
âHe really did come to you,â he said. Goodwell couldnât quite believe it. He thought theyâd need a much more elaborate bait to get Vell alone.
âI couldnât believe it either,â Joan said. âCome on. Get him through the portal and letâs get this over with.â
----------------------------------------
The underground laboratory was full to bursting with esoteric scientific equipment. Joan had been helping Goodwell for a few days now, and still didnât understand what half these machines did. The specific details of Goodwellâs plans didnât interest her anyway. She had her own goals in mind.
âIâm glad weâre ahead of schedule, at least,â Joan said.
âAhead of schedule isnât always good,â Principal Goodwell said. He stepped away from his own console and looked at Vell. âThat sleep spell will only last so long. He could wake up any minute.â
Joan glanced over her shoulder at Vell.
âHeâs already awake,â she noted. Sheâd slept with him enough times to know what real sleep looked like. âHeâs just pretending.â
With a heavy sigh, Vell opened his eyes. Goodwell pretended to be calm about this development. Heâd put too much effort into this plan to see it undone by little flaws like Vell waking up too early. He distracted the loopers with concerts and races, waited for Leanne to graduate so she couldnât punch her way through his defenses, and finally waited until a day without classes, without a loop, to spring his trap.
âSo,â Vell said. He tensed his arms and tried to pull against the metal latches holding him to the lab table. âAny chance this is a surprise graduation party?â
Goodwell and Joan returned to their consoles.
âWhat, no banter? I need something to do here, you know,â Vell said.
âIs he always this sarcastic?â Goodwell asked.
âSometimes,â Joan said.
âI get sarcastic when Iâm upset,â Vell said. âAnd you can imagine why I might be upset right now.â
The two continued to ignore him. Vell tested his bonds again and grunted in frustration. They were solid steel, and locked tight.
âSo I can assume whatâs going on, I suppose, but itâd be nice if one of you could at least confirm my theory,â Vell said. âArenât you bad guys supposed to monologue their plans?â
âIâm not the villain here, Vell,â Joan said.
âRight, no, youâve just got an innocent person strapped to a table to experiment on him against his will, thatâs perfectly rational, normal, good guy behavior.â
âAnd what about you, huh?â Joan protested. âHiding that mark on your back, never letting anyone else have a chance to solve the problems you canât? How many people could that magic have helped by now, Vell?â
âOh, yeah, there we go,â Vell said. Heâd done this song and dance with Joan before, and had no desire to repeat it. âAll comes down to the rune. As usual.â
âOf course it does,â Joan huffed. âThat rune could save thousands of lives.â
Vell stared up at the blank ceiling above him and furrowed his brow. It took him some time to choose his next words, but he spat them out eventually.
âIs it about âthousands of livesâ, Joan?â He asked. âOr is this about your sisterâs life?â
Joan knocked her chair to the ground as she all but jumped out of it. By the time she had stormed over to Vellâs side and grabbed him by the shoulders, there was already sweat on her brow.
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âHow do you know about that?â
âI figured it out,â Vell said. âIâm good at that, remember? Between the way you act and what youâve saidâ¦â
Vell allowed his voice to trail off. The reaction heâd expected and the reaction he was getting were too very different things. Heâd expected agitation, sadness, maybe. But Joan looked afraid.
âItâs bad, isnât it?â
âShut up,â Joan demanded.
âJoan, Iâm trying to understand this thing, Iâm just -Iâm trying not to be reckless,â Vell said. âI can help. We can figure this out. And we can do it the right way-â
âJust stop, Vell,â Joan said. âThereâs nothing you can say that will change my mind.â
âWell Iâm going to try anyway,â Vell shouted. âBecause it has to stop, Joan! I know youâre scared, I know youâre hurt-â
âAnd what are you supposed to know about hurt?â
âI mean, I died,â Vell said. âI did die, thatâs a thing that happened. Let me tell you, dying: not great, physically or psychologically.â
Before his cycle of daily death and resurrection here on campus, Vellâs one-time brush with death had been a haunting experience. The fear, the doubt and confusion heâd felt after his first resurrection was still haunting him in a lot of ways.
âEveryoneâs been hurt, Joan,â Vell said. âAnd everyone wants to believe they can stop their pain by pushing it on someone else, but it doesnât work like that. It has to stop, Joan. You have to stop.â
Joan remained frozen in place.
âWould you shut him up back there?â Goodwell shouted. He hadnât bothered to look up from his console at any of the commotion. The reminder of his presence worked to cut the tension that Joan felt in the moment.
âItâs all a waste of breath anyway,â Joan said. She stared straight back at Vell, locking her red eyes with his. âLike I said. Thereâs nothing you can say that will change my mind.â
Joan turned her back on Vell and headed for the door.
âI had to fake packing up my arcanometric analyzer when he showed up early,â Joan said. âI need to go get it.â
âNow?â Goodwell said. âWe agreed we wouldnât leave until the job was done.â
âThe job wonât get done unless I leave,â Joan said. âIâve been working on this longer than you have, Goodwell. Iâm going to see it through.â
Without giving him any more time for a counterargument, Joan grabbed the door. As she turned the handle, she locked eyes with Vell one more time.
Then Joan winked. And then she was gone.
In spite of the fact that Vell was strapped to a table and should probably be planning his escape, all Vell could think about was the wink. Why wink? Joan couldnât possibly be flirting with him. Not under the circumstances. But if it was a conspiratorial wink, why was he still strapped to a table? Goodwellâs back was turned, Joan had the door open, she couldâve unlatched him and been out the door in seconds. Neither option made any sense to Vell.
He failed to consider an important third angle: that Joan was trying to help him, and doing a very, very bad job of it.
âSo, Joan I get, sheâs just sort of messed up,â Vell said. His confusion persisted, but on the off chance Joan actually was trying to help him, he wanted to reinforce Goodwellâs perception that she was evil. And if she actually was evil, well, Vell had nothing to lose by repeating the fact. âBut whatâs your angle here?â
âOh right,â Goodwell said. âI imagine this betrayal comes as surprise.â
âNot really,â Vell said. âWe sort of had you pegged as creepy from the first meeting.â
âWhat?â Goodwell said. For the first time he stood and turned to face Vell on the table, looking away from his screen.â
âYeah, you got, uh, letâs call it âreally weird vibesâ,â Vell said. âAlso it only takes like, one google search to find out you beat your wife.â
âI slapped her once,â Goodwell said, emphasizing âonceâ, as if he got some kind of mulligan on spouse abuse. The angry reaction caused him to lean back a little from the screen his work was displayed on. Vellâs eyes narrowed.
âOkay, sure,â Vell said. âBack to my question. Whatâs your real plan?â
âDo you think Iâm stupid enough to explain my master plan?â
âUh...yes, actually,â Vell said. Goodwell snorted at him.
âWell Iâm not,â he said, before leaning back to look at his monitor. Vell rolled his eyes. He wanted to get a look at Goodwellâs monitor, but the principalâs conspicuously wide body kept Vell from getting a good angle. He needed a distraction, something guaranteed to get the principal out of his seat.
âSo, do you, uh...really think you can trust Joan?â Vell asked. âI mean, I couldnât trust her, and she actually liked me. What makes you, you know, any better off?â
âThe fact that Iâm actually giving her what she wants,â Goodwell said. âYou seem to understand her obsession, Harlan. You know how badly she wants this. If she thinks itâll get her closer to her goal, sheâll never betray me.â
----------------------------------------
âSo, long story. Short version: Principal Goodwell kidnapped Vell,â Joan said.
Luke crossed his arms and stared Joan down. Mostly thanks to Lee, and the message that Vell was in trouble, Joan had managed to gather all of his closest friends -or at least those who hadnât already pakced up and gone home. That amounted to Harley, Lee, Vellâs roommates, and Freddy Frizzle. They had listened to her explanation of the situation with rapt attention, except for Renard, who was at the back of the room, occasionally glancing out the window.
âWhat? Why?â
âI donât know what the real plan is, but he wants to do something with Vell,â Joan said.
âDoes this have something to do with that rune on his back?â
âYeah, it- He told you?â Joan said. In spite of the urgency, some offense crept into her voice. âHe told you and not me?â
âHe told us because of you,â Cane said accusingly. âTo help explain why he didnât feel safe around you.â
âOn that note, Joan,â Harley said. âHow exactly did you find out about Goodwellâs plan to kidnap Vell?â
Joan shrank back towards the door.
âI...kind of...helped him?â
âRight, Iâve heard-â
âI was always planning to do this,â Joan said. âI only ever went along with his plan so I could be here, warning you guys!â
âIt seems like warning us before the kidnapping would be the better idea,â Renard said. The fact that he could figure it out meant it shouldâve been obvious even to Joan.
âI- I needed to-â
âGet in a little research time with that stupid rune youâve been chasing?â Harley asked.
âNo! I didnât even do any tests or anything, I swear.â
âSo then this is just image rehab, then,â Cane said. âBecause if you had just said âOh hey, watch out for Goodwellâ, then you wouldnât get to pull off this dramatic rescue and be a big hero for everybody, would you?â
âI...No. I just didnât think-â
âYou usually donât,â Harley said. âThanks for the warning, Joan. If you want to help, tell us everything you know and then get out of our way.â
âI can help, I know what heâs doing, I know where he is,â Joan said.
âYeah, thatâs the âtell us everything you knowâ part of what I said,â Harley said. Lee kept to the back of the crowd, and averted her gaze as Joan looked her way.
âI know Iâve made a few bad choices-â Joan admitted.
âMostly bad choices,â Cane shrugged.
âAlmost exclusively bad,â Luke said.
âThanks, guys,â Joan said. âThis is really helping.â
âItâs almost like all the people youâve manipulated and lied to might have a grudge! Wow!â Harley said. âNow tell me where my friend is.â
âIâll take you to him,â Joan said. âIâm trying to help, just trust me-â
âNo!â
Harley stepped forward and jabbed a finger into Joanâs chest.
âI donât trust you, Joan, and as long as you keep acting like this no one is ever going to! This is all you ever do! You expect people to give everything to you while you give nothing to them,â Harley snapped. âWe can help Vell, but we donât want or need your help to do it! If you really want to do the right thing here, just let go of your fucking ego for once and let us do this!â
Renard stepped between the two women and gently pushed them apart.
âI think we need to calm down a little and prioritize saving Vell,â Renard said.
âYeah. But also, Harleyâs right and Joan is a bad person,â Cane said. âQuick poll, we all agreed?â
Everyone but Lee and Freddy raised their hands.
âFreddy,â Cane said. Reluctantly, Freddy raised his hand. Joan looked at him like sheâd been stabbed in the back.
âYouâre not a very good neighbor,â Freddy said bashfully. âThe loud music aloneâ¦â
âHey, Vellâs the one who got me hooked on that Roxy chick, itâs not all my fault!â
âThe volume is your fault,â Harley said. âSee this is what Iâm talking about, Joan, you just keep projecting and projecting, acting like nothing is ever really your fault! Just accept, for once, that you fucked up!â
The outrage in Joanâs body turned to exhaustion. She slumped backwards and leaned on the wall.
âFine. Okay. Vellâs in the basement of the faculty building,â she mumbled. âBig metal door at the end of the right hallway. Itâs sealed, and only Goodwell can let anyone in or out.â
âThank you,â Harley said. âAnything else?â
âI donât know. Goodwellâs lying to me about what he really intends to do, but I know he has a lot of neurology equipment.â
âCane, thatâs your specialty,â Luke said. âYou and Freddy should probably be on point. He knows the most about random tech, he can fill in whatever you donât know.â
Freddy nodded and took a step closer to Cane.
âMe and Renard can work on creating some kind of commotion thatâll get faculty involved and get Goodwell caught in the act,â Luke said. âThe security bots are all under the principalâs control, but if we can get the human faculty suspicious of him, maybe they can get something done.â
âHey, speaking of security bots, quick question,â Renard said. âDoes the school have any drones disguised as birds, or something?â
âNot that I know of,â Harley said. âWhy?â
âBecause this bird has been staring at us since Joan showed up. You think Goodwell might be on to us?â
Renard looked out the window at the suspicious bird. It was a tropical parrot, unremarkable in the islands menagerie of colorful birds, but Renard couldnât shake the feeling that something was off about it. It had bright yellow eyes that seemed to be observing the world with uncanny clarity.
âIâve never heard of any bird-drones,â Joan said.
âItâs just an ordinary bird, Renard, stay focused,â Luke said, trying to be patient in a situation where there was very little patience to go around. To get back on track, he looked at Harley and Lee. âAnd, of course, I assume you two are going to work on some weird angle thatâs completely incomprehensible to us.â
âWeâre actually at a bit of a loss,â Harley admitted. Goodwell had scheduled his master stroke for the day classes had ended, meaning there would be no daily apocalypse, and therefore no loop. They had no redo to work with, no way to do a âtrial runâ of their rescue. âIf youâve got any ideasâ¦â
At that cue, Lee finally mustered the courage to step away from the wall and speak up.
âIâm going with Joan,â Lee said.
âLee, we just talked-â
âYou talked,â Lee insisted. âMaybe you donât trust her, but I do. And I want her help.â
Lee crossed the crowd and took a stand next to Joan, crossing her arms defiantly even as they trembled slightly.
âWe still donât know if this isnât some kind of distraction,â Cane said. âOr a trap. She did say she was working with Goodwell.â
âThen itâs a good thing we have different teams on it, isnât it?â Lee said. âYou all follow through on your plan, and Iâll work with Joan.â
âWeâll work with Joan,â Harley sighed. âI ainât leaving you alone with her.â
Joan looked at Lee, and noticed that her hands still shook with uncertainty.
âI can get you two into the lab, but I donât know what happens next,â Joan said. âI think backup is a good idea.â
Cane gave a stiff nod. He had a few ideas, but he didnât want to discuss them around Joan. He pulled Freddy to a side room as Renard and Luke likewise broke off to make their own plans. Harley stayed, but still kept her distance from Joan.
âBoy, today is just not my day,â Joan said.
âYou made your bed,â Harley snorted. Lee put a reassuring hand on Joanâs shoulder.
âBut itâs not too late to...unmake it,â Lee assured her. âThe metaphor doesnât play out well, but you know what I mean.â
âThanks for trying,â Joan sighed. âLetâs go save Vell.â
âFrom you,â Harley said. âFun times. Helping my friend with the girl who got him kidnapped in the first place.â
Outside the window, a colorful bird ruffled itâs feathers. Her mismatched eyes had taken in all of the argument within the dorm, and while an entertaining prologue, it was time to move on to the next act. The bird took flight, to see more of the spectacle, and when the time was right, to play her part.